


Katara and Zuko in the Cystal Cave (The Crossroads of Destiny)

by GeneFlynn



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Episode: s02e20 The Crossroads of Destiny, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:54:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25715371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeneFlynn/pseuds/GeneFlynn
Summary: This story explores a passionate encounter that could have occurred between Katara and Zuko when they were imprisoned together in the Crystal Catacombs below Ba Sing Se (Season 2: Episode 20: The Crossroads of Destiny).
Relationships: Katara & Zuko (Avatar), Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 70





	Katara and Zuko in the Cystal Cave (The Crossroads of Destiny)

Deep beneath the palace in the crystal catacombs of Old Ba Sing Se, Katara awaited her fate. Head down, fists clenched, she paced the worn earthen floor in the pale luminescence of the crystal cave. Would it be interrogation at the cold, stone hands of the Dai Li? The alternative was worse, far worse. If Azula came to question her – 

Far above her there was a great rumble, the sound of stone against stone. Were they coming for her? She cast about, but there was no water here, not a drop. A circular stone door ground open at the top of a steep shaft, spilling dazzling light into the pale gloam of her prison. She blinked in the brightness and saw the silhouettes of a pair of Dai Li agents in the circle of light, “You've got company” one of them said gruffly. Unceremoniously, they tossed a figure down the shaft. He toppled down the slope, falling in a crumpled heap at the bottom. He was clad in Earth Kingdom dress robes. The man groaned, and pushed himself up into a seated position. 

Katara experienced a moment of total surprise – it was a face she knew well, “Zuko?”. Her ficker of surprise was drowned in a surge of animosity. Her blue eyes narrowed, and her face set. Zuko knelt, looking up at Katara, his amber eyes flashing with mutual hostility. They stared tensely at one another as the stone door rumbled back into place, the ray of light from its opening, narrowing to nothing.

Illuminated only by the pale glow of the crystals, Zuko sighed and turned away, sitting with his back to her. His shoulders hunched and his gaze was downcast. 

As if things couldn't have gotten any worse. Katara began to pace again, “Why did they throw you in here?” she demanded with rhetorical exasperation. “Oh wait, let me guess. It's a trap,” She turned on her heel, braid swinging against her back, “so when Aang shows up you can finally have him in your little fire nation clutches” She accused with mingled with disgust and contempt. Zuko looked back at her over his shoulder, as if half heartedly considering a response, then slumped back wordlessly. 

The anger tight in her voice, she lashed, “You're a terrible person, you know that? Always following us, hunting the avatar. Trying to capture the world's last hope for peace.” She turned away from him, “But what do you care, you're the Firelord's son.” Her final words dripped venom as Zuko sat, wordlessly, his back to her, “Spreading war and destruction and hatred is in your blood.” 

Zuko turns head slightly, and spoke for the first time, his words smoldering with soft defiance, “You have no idea what you're talking about.” 

Katara wheeled to face him, fists clenched, quivering, “I don't? How dare you,” she spat, “You have no idea what this war has put me through,” She brings a hand to her chest, “Me personally” The rage was gone. Her voice came small, quavering. She turned her back to Zuko and crouched down, eyes brimming, “The fire nation took my mother away from me.” Her hand went to her necklace. Tears welled up in her eyes, she didn’t want him to see her weak, but she couldn’t help herself, the tears rolled down her cheeks. She sat, defeated, drawing up her knees and burying her head in her arms as she sobbed. 

Zuko looked over his shoulder, and seemed to really see her for the first time, “I'm sorry.” simple words, they came genuine and soft. He turned to face her, “That's something we have in common.” 

Katara raised her head, wiping the tears from her face. Zuko rose, as if to come and comfort her, but turned away. What comfort could she want from someone like him. 

Katara stood, hands behind her back, and bowed her head in shame, “I'm sorry I yelled at you before.” 

Zuko looked away, “It doesn't matter.” 

Katara began, “It's just that,” she closed her eyes for a moment, “for so long now, whenever I would imagine the face of the enemy, it was your face.” She finished apologetically. 

“My face,” Zuko brought a hand to his scar, “I see...” 

Katara stepped towards him, “No, that's...” she amended regretfully, “that's not what I meant.” 

Zuko let his hand fall, “It's ok. I used to think this scar marked me.” He stared off, “The mark of the banished prince, cursed to chase the Avatar forever.” Still not meeting her gaze, he added, “But lately, I've realized I'm free to determine my own destiny,” Katara stared at the angry red of his scar, cruel against his fair skin, “even if I'll never be free of my mark.” 

“Maybe you could be free of it.” Katara's clear voice drew him back. 

A glimmer of hope flashed in Zuko's amber eyes, “What?” 

“I have healing abilities.” Said Katara. 

“It's a scar,” Said Zuko, “It can't be healed.” 

Wordlessly, Katara loosened the neck of her gi, from a leather cord around her neck, hanging low on her chest hung a conical vial with stopper, made in the image of a crescent moon. She walked up to Zuko, facing him, “This is water from the Spirit Oasis at the North Pole. It has special properties, so I have be saving it... for something important.” She stood a pace away, looking up at him, holding the vial, forgotten between them, “I don't know if it would work, but...” 

She stared into the angles of his face, his scar, and tawny eyes, the defiance in his lips. He closed his eyes in silent appreciation of her gift. Katara put a hand on Zuko's cheek, fingers resting gently on his scar, her thumb over his lips. His skin was warm to the touch. She stood a hand's breadth away from him, looking up at him with wide blue eyes. 

Zuko opened his eyes, golden like a great cat's, and Katara felt her heart beat against her chest. “Save your spirit water. I'm not the one it was meant for.” He reached up and put his hand over hers, against his scar. 

Katara was very suddenly aware that she had not fixed her gi after removing the pendant, and it hung loosely over her bare shoulder. It was warm in the crystal cave. She began “I --” 

He placed a hand gently on her cheek. Her heart beat against her chest and she felt the blood rise in her cheeks. She was just short enough so that Zuko had to bend ever slightly, to kiss her lips. Katara froze. His lips were warm and soft, their touch slow and gentle. He tasted of jasmine, and of honey, and of smoke

She closed her eyes, and kissed back. The vial of Spirit Water fell, forgotten, to rest on the soft earth of the cave's floor. 

They kissed slowly at first, his lips against hers. A hand on her waist drew her close, her body against his, warm and solid. She wrapped her arms around his back, falling into him. She felt a hand move from her cheek to tangle in her dark hair below the braid. They kissed more earnestly now, each meeting of lips only feeding their mutual hunger. 

Zuko bit her lower lip, Katara gasped, and pulled away, catching her breath, her heart still beating far too fast. 

“We're enemies,” she breathed. Zuko reached up, and pulled the other shoulder of her gi down, baring her shoulders. “We have other things to worry about.” Katara whispered. 

His lips lingered over her neck, just above her necklace, so close she could feel their heat, his warm breath upon her tan, exposed skin. She was painfully aware of his hand, low on the small of her back. 

“This, this isn't the right time...” Her voice was lost in a soft moan. She wanted him. She wanted him more than anything else. He kissed the bare skin of her neck, his hand, still tangled in her dark hair, tugged slightly. Katara tilted her head in response, exposing her bare skin to his passion. He kissed below the thin band of her necklace, down her shoulder, along her collarbone. 

A hand brushed her chest, through the thin white linen wrappings that held her breasts. She felt her nipple harden in response. His hand was on her chest then, grabbing her through the thin bindings. He kissed her neck, hard, and sucked, and bit. Her fingers clutched at his robes as her knees grew weak with the voracity of his desire. 

Zuko pulled away, they stood, inches apart, “All my life, it's been about what other people wanted for me.” Zuko stared into her eyes, “My father, my uncle, my sister... for once,” He traced his thumb over Katara's moist lips, “I'm going to take what I want.” 

With a sudden swift movement, he tore away the linen strips that covered her breasts as if they were nothing more than paper. Katara's gi fell about her waist, her breasts bare below her necklace, her dark nipples stiff. She stood like that, half naked, save for the wrapping about her wrists, flushed and wild eyed in the soft light of the crystal cave. 

Slowly, with forced control, Zuko unbuckled his belt, coiling tightly about his hand before placing it on an outcropping of stone. He did this with an air ceremonial reverence, each movement reminding Katara that the man before her was a prince. He pulled off both layers of his dress robe, folding each with maddening slowness, and placing them upon the ledge. He stood before her, bare chested. The pale half light cast faint shadows over his white skin, accenting every angular line of his lithe muscles. Her eyes trailed down, over his chest, his hardened core, to the angular vee of his hard lower abs, just vanishing below the drawstring of his pants. 

He placed his hands on her hips, white against her dark skin. Cheeks warm with blush, Katara looked up into the golden asymmetry of his eyes, her russet lips half open, expectant. And he kissed her again, deeply. They left Katara then, her worries, her doubts, crowded out by desire. She had been fighting for so long, resisting, she wanted to give in, to be taken. One of Zuko's hands found her slender throat, his grip part anger and part want, a tight caress. 

The other hand moved over her bare breasts, lingering for the space of a pinch and turn on each of her dark nipples, like a signature, a fiery kiss. His hand moved lower, stark against the tanned skin of her flat stomach, and lower still. He found her wet, his fingers sliding between her lower lips, slick with anticipation and excitement, dripping. “Zuko...” she let out his name as half a moan – no man had touched her in such a way before. His fingers glided over her warm, soft wetness, her legs trembled until she could take no more, and collapsed. Zuko's hand left her throat as he lowered to the soft earth of the cave's floor, tugging off her pants and boots. Katara lay naked on the floor, arms above her head, her braid had come undone and her dark hair pooled out around her. Zuko stood above her, his tawny eyes sparkling in the light of the crystals, “I've wanted this for so long. Since the day I captured you.” 

“Please.” Katara begged. 

Zuko pulled the drawstring of his pants, and they fell in a pile at his feet. He was huge and hard, his size exaggerated by his thin, toned build. He knelt before her, and her hands found him hard and hot the touch, throbbing with desire. He pressed against her wet lower lips, pushing with steady intent. His head grew slick with the yield of her desire as he pushed again, and again. She felt her slick, tight muscles widen with each push. 

Katara closed her eyes. She wanted him inside her. She wanted to let go, to be used. She longed to be taken, his head probing, parting her slick lips. He mounted her. She gasped as the head of Zuko's length entered her. She wanted it all. Slowly he began to ease himself inside her with short thrusts, inch by inch. His thick, wet, shaft slid inside her, pressing deep, deeper, her smooth muscles stretched around his massive girth. He felt so big. With a final push he was inside her completely, buried up to his base, filling her. 

Katara moaned and her blue eyes snapped open. She caught her breath. The taper of his lower abs culminated in a smooth, huge shaft, engulfed by her flesh, her tan thighs tight around him. He drew back, pulling almost out, she felt every inch of his shaft gliding along her tight wet muscles. Then he thrust his entire length inside her once more, burying himself deep, his abs slamming against her. She let out a gasp, her muscles clenching around him. Zuko's hands found her thighs, white against her dark skin, and he held them apart as he began to take her. Her hands tangled the shaggy dark hair at the base of his skull as he thrust. Her back arched like the breaking of a wave. With every thrust, his lower abs smacked against her, every thrust deeper than the last. 

As Zuko found his rhythm, each thrust brought Katara to moan, until her moans replaced her breaths. His thrusts came faster and harder. He pounded her, grabbing her hips to drive each thrust deeper still. Katara cried out, clawing his back. Zuko reached over her, grabbing her wrapped wrists, pinning them down above her head. He was riding her now, hard and fast, pounding into her, her wet, pink muscles convulsing around his massive girth. Katara cried out, her back arching, her mouth open in an unending, moan, every muscle in her body tensed around Zuko, shuddered. He grunted with exertion, and, with one final thrust, harder and deeper than all the rest, he buried his entire length inside her.

Katara felt him then, his cock pulsing, spasming, throbbing deep within her, his hard shaft pumping his hot seed inside her, again and again and again. His breath came hot and ragged as he leaned over her. She panted, her breaths still coming as moans, her muscles quivering, limbs weak. He lowered himself onto her, his chest sticky with sweat against her breasts. She hung her arms around his back, their hearts beating together, they lay like this for a long while, there in the pale twilight of the crystal cave, their small figures reflected a thousand times in its emerald fractals.

Finally, wordless, they had stood and dressed, backs turned to one another. Zuko broke the silence, “You dropped this.” He offered her the tiny vial from the Spirit Oasis. 

“Thank you.” Katara took the chord from him, her fingers lingering on his hand, “Zuko, I–” 

There was a great crack and rumble and in a cascade of stones and dust and crystal shards as Aang burst into the tunnel with Iroh, holding a flame that brought true light to the shadows of the cave. 

“Aang!” Cried Katara in pleasure and surprise. 

Aang stared for a moment at Zuko and Katara, confused by how close they were standing, before Katara ran up and threw her arms around him. Aang glared over her shoulder at Zuko while holding Katara. Iroh rushed to Zuko and pulled him into a great hug. Zuko glared back at the Avatar over his uncle's embrace. 

The spell of the crystal cave was broken, but whatever happened next, Katara would have this, it was hers and hers alone, a burning secret, like a fiery brand upon her heart.


End file.
